Chapter Text
You ran towards your mother to the kitchen proudly showing the star mark on the back of your hand.
“My teacher gave this to me today, mama!” You grinned wide. As wide as a five years old kid can.
Your father is cleaning the car outside. He just fetched you from school but the rain caused the car to be muddy so he said that you can go ahead while he clean the car.
Your mother smiled at you and ruffled your hair, you have the same color as your mother’s. Light brown the shines bright when placed under the sun. Your soft hair is similar to your mother too, a bit messy but easy to tame. You can smell the curry that she’s cooking, you sniffed the air and told your mother that you can’t wait to eat it.
“Mama, what’s this number on my wrist?” You showed it to her. She raised an eyebrow and told you that only you can see it. She asked you what’s written on it. Her eyes stared at you, light brown behind her glasses, mirroring your eyes that is also behind your glasses.
You told her the numbers and her expression turned into something you can’t explain. From surprise to fear. She immediately ran out of the kitchen to call your father outside. You followed her as fast as you can with your tiny footsteps and you saw her talking to your father in panic, you see your father stare at you with a concern look on his face.
She died a month later. Your father frowned at you.
Your mother said the number written on your wrist is the day of your death. You feel confused because your mother died on the date written on your wrist. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? It’s supposed to be you lying on the hospital bed, it’s supposed to be you that the people are mourning to. It’s supposed to be you that will be buried six feet on the ground.
And yet you’re still here. Standing in front of your mother’s tombstone, wearing a black suit. You hated the suit. It’s too tight and hot but your father forced you to wear it.
Your father said she have sixty more years before the date on her wrist.
He walked back to the car and you followed him with your tiny footsteps. You got in the back of the car, your father reminding you to wear the seatbelt and you did. He drove back home, murmuring something about having to clean the car later.
And you wondered why she left early as you stared on your wrist, glaring at the date written.
-x-
“Hey, Miyuki.”
You turned your gaze to the boy next to you, drinking his second cup of coffee as he browse his notes for the upcoming final exams next week.
He stopped and turned his head to you. “I don’t really have much time left.”
You raised your eyebrows. Confused. “Like, you need to go home now? Is your boyfriend bugging you to go home early tonight?” You smirked and switched your voice to a teasing tone. “That’s fine I know you need your nightly dose of—“
“No.” He cut you off. He sighed and massaged his temples with his hand. “I’m serious here.”
And then it hits you hard what he means as you turned your gaze away. “Oh.”
Suddenly it’s hard to look at your best friend. Suddenly you can’t stand seeing what face he is making right now. You would normally tease him and laugh at him but this time it’s different.
Your best friend is about to break down. You can’t stand seeing it right now. “So what do you want to do?”
You asked him but you kept your gaze on your notes. Not like you’re actually reading, all you’re seeing are random blurred lines. Your mind literally just stopped functioning with the sudden realization but you kept it with you. You kept it hidden, giving the boy next to you a strong barricade, a wall that gives the impression that you’re a strong person.
It’s really just a wall full of lies though.
“Nothing.” He replied. “Just the usual. I just…..I don’t know… I’m worried about Eijun.”
Eijun. You squint your eyes. Sawamura Eijun was it? Yes, you remember it’s Sawamura Eijun, your best friend’s lover. You remember your friend panicking about where he should take Sawamura when he ran away from home due to the war breaking out in their place. He said his family made him run away, he said his friends told him they’re fine and he should go away. And the boy did.
You remember telling your friend to just take him home.
And now Kuramochi is panicking about the boy. Again. Almost for the same reason.
“What about him? He’s old enough, he’ll manage.”
“You don’t know him. He’s an idiot, he’ll set fire in my apartment.”
You chuckled and turned your gaze to Kuramochi. “Yeah?”
“Take him home, will you?” He asked you. Exactly the same thing you told him three years before.
“Really now…I can’t believe you’re giving me your boyfriend.”
He rolled his eyes and you think his eyes will roll back to his skull but it didn’t.
“He have nothing to go back to. His family and friends are all gone, together with his hometown. I kinda want to rest in peace, like literally without worrying about him.”
“Fine but don’t go rolling up from your grave if I made him cry or something.”
“You wouldn’t.”
-x-
Your name is Miyuki Kazuya and your (only) best friend died (exactly one year after the talk you two had). You checked your wrist and you see the familiar numbers written. It’s been there since you were born and your mother said everyone has it. Everyone have that mark that no one else can see but themselves.
You stare at it, serving as a grim reminder to you. Something that you considered a curse. Something that always made you feel horrible.
Your mother said it’s the date when you’re supposed to die. You can’t die before it no matter how hard you try. Your body will survive and you’ll end up getting hurt.
She also said you can’t cheat it but you doubt it. You really doubt it.
(You have a proof after all.)
The funeral was well organized. (As expected, Kuramochi probably planned it weeks ago to save his family the trouble.)
Everything is planned and scripted, even the speech of his parents. You know that Kuramochi’s funeral clothes was chosen by him too (you helped him). The flowers, the guest list, the burial, everything is so well organized it’s creeping you out. It’s creeping you out that you can plan your own funeral.
You talked to his parents, telling them your condolence and your last moments with him out of courtesy. They thanked you for helping him and for staying with him until the end.
After saying your goodbye and thanks to Kuramochi’s parents, you scanned the area for a familiar boy. You’ve seen him countless times before so you shouldn’t have any trouble looking for him. (Though your friend never really properly introduced you to him saying something about it doesn’t really matter so you thought maybe the boy doesn’t really know you at all.)
And there he is, sitting next to the tombstone, sulking like a little child. You walked closer and sat next to him. You’ll need to wash your pants later when you get home, it’s going to be really dirty when you get up.
“Hey.”
He stared at you, brows furrowed. “Miyuki Kazuya.” He said.
“Oh? You know me?”
“Of course, Youichi told me about you.”
“I see…”
“I’m not coming with you.”
“Nice.”
“I’m serious.”
You grinned. “You sound exactly like him.”
“You’re annoying.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s not a compliment!” He yelled.
“Still not coming with me?”
“No.”
“You know, I really don’t want to do this but he’ll hunt me in my sleep if I don’t drag you back with me.”
“I can take care of my own. He sold his apartment and his belongings and placed the money on my bank account. I’ll manage.”
“Sure.” You got back to your feet. “Give me your phone.”
He squints his eyes at you suspiciously. “Why would I?”
“So I can input my number, idiot.”
“Youichi already gave it to me. No need.” He turned his head away. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Creepy.” You murmured. “Call me if you need some help, I’m going home now.”
His eyes widened as he turned his head back to you. “Wait—You’re not taking me with you??”
“Hah? You said you don’t want to come, I don’t like to force things into people. So whatever you do is not my business.”
“Oh…okay.” You noticed how his face almost begged you to just drag him with you because it hurts to stay here, that he doesn’t know where to go and what to do. You’re supposed to do something about it, Kuramochi told you to do something about it, he told you exactly one year ago to help the boy. Instead, you’re going to ignore it and pretend you know nothing. You’re going to casually wave your hand and walk back to your car and drive home. You’re going to make a cup of coffee and call it a day. (You don’t have time to mourn, it won’t bring back the dead. Though you will never admit to anyone that you already mourned for almost one year, while your friend was still alive.)
You’re going to let the life and the shine in the boy’s eyes to vanish. You’re going to ignore the dark circles under his eyes. You’re going to tell yourself that it’s none of your business.
You know Kuramochi will kill you if he knows about this.
You’re going to break the trust that your friend gave you. (He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. You repeat to yourself, thinking it will make you feel better.
And it doesn’t make you feel better.)
You didn’t do any of those. Instead, you stood there staring at the boy. You’re waiting for something.
Waiting for what?
“I have lots of years left.” He said, looking down and playing with the grass. “I don’t know what to do with those years.”
“You’re supposed to spend it with a loved one.” You replied.
“Yeah but they’re gone.” He frowned, grabbing a pile of grass as he clenched his fist. Maybe out of frustration that he can’t do anything in this situation. “What about you?”
You glanced at your wrist, the numbers looking back at you.
“You don’t have to answer.” He stood up, dusting his pants off for some left over dirt. His black pants hiding the dirt of cemetery grounds really well (compared to your brown pants that looks…well….darker in some areas.) “My mother once told me when something horrible happens I should move on and flow with the course of my fate because maybe I’ll land into something great.” A pause. “And you know what? I think the flow of my fate is moving towards you and I’ll follow that.”
You swallowed thickly and did your best to hide the grin that is about to form in your face.
There he is, standing right in front of you, his eyes full of sadness but the intensity of his stare is still there. You know he went through hard times, lots of it, you know exactly how painful it is but he’s still there. Talking about fate and all that bullshit. He talks about it like his death is not set on a stone (on his wrist for this matter). He’s standing in front of you, his back facing the tombstone. He’s wearing a black suit and you think it doesn’t look comfortable.
You walked back to your car and Sawamura followed you behind, copying your footsteps. He got in on the front seat next to you. You told him to wear the seatbelt and he did.
You drove back to your apartment and murmured something about having to clean the car later.
You brought him home. Exactly what your friend told you.